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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220528">The cage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoenOut/pseuds/ZoenOut'>ZoenOut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Bad Day (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, HMCWTIYS, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Men Crying, Sad, Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), quarentine fic kinda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoenOut/pseuds/ZoenOut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley feels trapped from staying at the same place so long. Trapped and anxious.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The cage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was for the write this in your style competition that usedtobehmc is currently hosting. It's a bit last minute but I hope you don't mind! I chose the first picture as my inspo and a redraw of it will be up on my instagram (@chevyo_o.doodle) shortly! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley rose from his armchair.<br/>“I can’t.”<br/>He turned around, his feet seemed to be hovering slightly above the floor as he walked, just as if he was weightless, or being suspended from strings. <br/>“Hm?” Aziraphale glanced up from his book. “You cannot what- Crowley!”<br/>Crowley strode through the bookshop, towards an undisclosed location. He was like a restless animal, knowing there was a threat somewhere but not able to pinpoint where. He stopped abruptly and turned around just as Aziraphale had caught up. <br/>“Crowley, what exactly can’t you do?”<br/>Crowley turned away. He let his eyes wander around the bookshop, from the overloaded desk to the old computer to the S above him and the N above Aziraphale. In theory it was great, in theory it was all he wanted. So why didn’t he want it? Why did he now want anything but this? His attention shifted to his quick breaths, to the soft air going down his throat. Soft like fluff, like flocking, like shredded yarn. Like cat hair that gets everywhere, the kind that coats every item of clothing and doesn’t let go. He wondered how long these walls had stood here, in this exact place, stuck in the same position. He dragged his hand through his short hair, resisting the urge to grab it and pull as hard as he could. He looked at all the half-empty cups of tea, the ones that cooled but never moulded. The thought of mould crossed his mind, he shivered. Mould, what a horrible invention. Something that’s alive even though it looks dead, even though it smells like death. Disgusting. He turned back to Aziraphale. He hadn’t moved an inch, his facial expression still the same. <br/>“I can’t…” He stopped himself, his lips moved in the shape of the words passing through his mind, he just needed to pick the right ones, pluck them from his mind and place them into his mouth. “I want to… to go somewhere. Somewhere else. I can’t stay.”<br/>Aziraphale seemed to consider Crowley’s words, several expressions ghosting across his face in succession, they barely lasted a second each but they were there. His left hand rose to his chin, his thumb moved back and forth across his lower lip. <br/>“Crowley is this about… the fire?”<br/>Crowley blinked. Looked down. Looked up.<br/>“I don’t think so… no. Not about the fire.”<br/>“Alright, it’s just, you’re breathing so fast, is all. So I thought, well, I thought the fire might be it.”<br/>“It’s not,” Crowley stated. <br/>He was sure of that now. Not the fire but something, something he needed to get away from. He turned, took a step fully intending to take another one and another after that. It was as if the entire world became blurry, he heard static, he saw static. Just noise, business, it didn’t mean anything, it was just fuzz and too much of it. He froze. A hand grabbed his arm. Aziraphale’s hand. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, all the things to look at, they got too much. He could hear Aziraphale shift, then take a step forward. He was right there, Crowley could feel it, he could feel the warmth radiate like static electricity hovering a few inches from Aziraphale’s body. Maybe that’s what an aura was… Aziraphale took another step towards him, they weren’t far apart now. Not one under S, one under N. They weren’t under any latitude, Crowley hadn’t even kept track of where they had ended up. In the bookshop, he knew that. Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s arm, Aziraphale closed the rest of the distance between them. Crowley could feel his eyes get wet. He clenched his jaw, his eyes shot open and he pointed his head towards the ceiling. He didn’t want to cry. Not now, not here. Not over this. Not over something so stupid, he didn’t even know what It was. Aziraphale moved his left hand up to Crowley’s temple, wrapping his other arm around Crowley’s torso. He held on tight, Crowley could feel it. He was shaking now. The tears fell down his face. They were warmer than usual, bigger and heavier than usual. They ran down his throat. <br/>“Have you ever thought about how long this air has been… how long it’s been,“ Crowley searched for a word, “the ss-same? Not changed out?”<br/>Aziraphale loosened his grip a bit, Crowley could feel the angel’s eyes on him.<br/>“No, I don’t think I have, dear boy.” Aziraphale paused, as if he wondered if the thing he thought of saying was okay or not. “What made you think of that?”<br/>“I don’t know,” Crowley said with the voice of someone who does know, who knows very well, but hasn’t put together enough words to explain it. “I guess,” he cleared his throat, “I guess it’s 'cause we’ve been in the same place so long. 'Cause then… It's like a cage.”<br/>“Hm?”<br/>“It’s like a cage.” He took a deep breath, it stuttered and shook in his chest. He felt like a boombox with a CD that just kept skipping, even though you tried to fix it, even though there seemed to be nothing wrong, even though it worked one second it broke the next. It just kept going chht- chht- chht- chht. He swallowed. “Everything is just the same thing again and again and again, and nothing changes and I can’t do anything new and it’s all the ss-same... the same thing.”<br/>He felt another wave of tears fill his eyes, this time he didn’t do anything to stop it. Aziraphale looked at the ground, his brow furrowed.<br/>“Does that make you feel bad? The same things repeatedly?”<br/>“Yes,” Crowley cried. He chuckled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “It makes me… makes me feel like I’m suffocating. And I can’t breathe.” He took a gasping breath, impressive proof of concept really. “Because I’m ss-stuck.”<br/>Aziraphale held on tighter than before, he leaned into Crowley while Crowley leaned into him. A perfect work of balance. Aziraphale grounded him, gave him a tether, even when the fuzz came back and filled his head Aziraphale was still there. Crowley heard him mumbling something.<br/>“What was that?”<br/>“I was just saying that… that we should do something about that.”<br/>Crowley shrugged. <br/>“Do you want for us to sleep in your apartment for the night?”<br/>“Maybe... Yeah, maybe.“<br/>“We could rent a hotel room,” Aziraphale thought out loud, “I think the important thing is to get out of the bookshop, don’t you think?”<br/>Crowley nodded. <br/>“Should we go now? Is it alright if I drive?”<br/>Crowley swallowed and tried to take another breath without shaking.<br/>“Let’s go.”</p>
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